we will open our eyes (wide, wider)
by eponnia
Summary: Just because they won the case doesn't mean Grace can immediately forgive Tom. [Part expanded and/or missing scene, part post-canon with hinted Trace. One-shot.]


**AUTHOR'S NOTE: The title is from John Arndt and Lisa Gungor's "This Is Not the End".**

* * *

 _This is not the end_

 _This is not the end of us_

 _We will shine like the stars_

 _Bright, brighter_

* * *

"I still don't understand why you did it," Grace says as they stand on the front steps of the dark courthouse. "Why you _turned_ on me."

"It was to flip the tables on Kane," Tom replies, streetlights casting shadows on the contours of his face. "To get the jury on your side. To-"

"Yes, but," she begins, and her throat tightens. "I _trusted_ you. I told you the personal, private things of my heart, and you used them against me."

"No," he says, looking into her eyes. "I was playing the devil's advocate so the jury could hear your side."

"You shouldn't have to play the devil's advocate!" she cries, her gut twisting. "God could have won that case without you betraying me!"

" _Betraying_ you?" he repeats, incredulous.

"You used my words against me!"

"The jury needed to hear-"

"I don't _care_ what the jury needed to hear!" Her chest is heaving and she's swaying on her feet; he reaches out to steady her, but she leans away from his hand. "You became like Kane, just so we could _win_. You forced me to admit the most personal encounter I have ever had to a courtroom full of strangers!"

"Maybe it wasn't just the jury who needed to hear what God said to you," he says after a long moment. "Maybe you needed to admit it to yourself, out loud, in front of everyone."

He turns and walks away down the sidewalk, leaving her alone on the steps of the courtroom.

She knows she should forgive Tom, knows that that is what a good Christian would do. But she also feels like he had run her through with a sword during the hearing, had twisted the blade until she had been forced to admit what she wanted to keep private. Tell a few close people about what God had told her, fine. But not everyone. Not a room full of strangers. Not the court reporter whose file will be forever preserved. Not the reporters who will spread the intimate details of her encounter with the Lord to the world.

 _But isn't that the point?_ she thinks wearily, suddenly drained of all energy. _To spread the Good News in any way we can? Even if it is uncomfortable for us to do so?_

And if she calls herself a Christian, she has to follow _everything_ in the Bible. Not just the commands that are easy to follow, but the hard ones, too. She can't pick and choose what suits her.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud," she reminds herself under her breath. "It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered…"

She swallows. Hard.

"It keeps no record of wrongs."

She suddenly remembers Brooke, and the question that started it all.

"You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy,'" Grace whispers, tears coming to her eyes. "But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."

Kane is a clear cut antagonist in the tableau her life had become; he intimidated her, sometimes even frightened her with his intensity and hatred and bloodthirstiness, but she knew she should pray for him. But Tom… Tom had seemed friendly and reasonable and not like the average lawyer. He dressed casually and, outside of the courtroom, did not put up shields of legal jargon. She had let him into her home, introduced him to her grandfather, and opened up to him.

And he had taken that and used it against her.

But what about the Great Commission? What about telling others about the risen Lord? Even though a courthouse wasn't the most obvious place, she should be willing to spread the Good News anywhere, right?

"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit," she murmurs, eyes falling closed, "and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."

Eyes still closed, she tilts her head towards the dark sky as a gentle breeze tugs at her hair. _Jesus, help me forgive Tom,_ she prays silently. _I can't bring myself to do so on my own. What he did hurt too much. Guide my heart towards Your will. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen._

The heaviness on her heart lifts, and she breathes deeply, clearly, and unhindered.

"Thank you," she breathes, eyes fluttering open, and she hurries down the steps of the courthouse.

She knows there is no chance of Tom still being there as she heads down the street, but then she sees his car sitting in front of the parking meter and the lawyer himself leaning against the vehicle.

"Tom?" she calls, and he looks up.

"Hey." He lowers his phone. "My car won't start, even though it worked perfectly fine this morning."

She stops in front of him. "We need to talk."

"Go ahead," he says, but sounds almost resigned, as if he expects her to start yelling at him again. She knows, in her bones, that that is not who she wants to be. Who God wants her to be.

"I want to apologize."

He raises an eyebrow, but does not reply.

"I acted very un-Christ-like back there, after everything you've done for me." She draws in a shaky breath through her nose. "And even though you hurt me, you were right. I _do_ need to be more willing to share every part of my testimony. So I forgive you for all the things you said, and I ask your forgiveness for what _I_ said."

She stands there, trembling slightly, and releases the breath she didn't know she had been holding. She has to be content with knowing that she has done her part, no matter Tom's response.

"I accept your apology," he says after a long moment that seems to last a year. "And… and I apologize for my actions during the hearing." He gives her a wry smile. "Your steadfast, unwavering belief in this whole Christianity thing has… well, it got me thinking."

Her heart leaps into her throat.

"I might look into it," he says nonchalantly. "If I have time."

"Read the Gospels first," she advises as hope blooms in her chest, courses through her veins, and spreads right to her fingertips. "Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John."

"Sure." He shrugs, but she is _ecstatic_.

"Can I pray for you?" she blurts out.

He hesitates. "Okay…"

She bows her heads, folds her hands, and closes her eyes. "Heavenly Father, we praise Your Name. You won the case today, not us, and we thank You for that. I also pray that You make Yourself known to Tom. Speak to him as You spoke to me all those years ago. Please help everyone in that courtroom today, Kane and the judge and the jurors and Brooke, that through today they might come to know You or that their faith would be strengthened by what happened. Please heal that pastor on the jury whose appendix burst, that he might go back his church fully healed and continue Your work." She pauses. "And please fix Tom's car. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen." She opens her eyes to see the lawyer watching her carefully.

"How can you pray for Kane? He doesn't deserve it."

"Jesus forgave me of all of my sins," she says honestly. "After _that_ , I should do the same for others, no matter what they do to me. It's the least I can do."

He raises an eyebrow. "You're something else, Grace Wesley."

She smiles. "It's what God did in me, not my own doing," she says as the Les Schwab Tires truck drives up.

But when the Les Schwab employee examines every inch of the engine of Tom's car, the gray-haired man only says, "There's nothing wrong with it."

"What?" Tom protests.

"I've been working in this field for fifty years," the older man says. "And I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that there is nothing wrong with your car."

"Try to start the engine," Grace suggests.

"But–" Tom begins.

"Have a little faith," she says with a smile, and he gets into the vehicle without another word.

The car starts.

"Praise the Lord," Grace says immediately.

The Les Schwab employee smiles politely but only says, "We should probably take a look at your car at the station, sir," as Tom gets out of his car.

"Of course," Tom answers, and as the employee heads for his truck, the lawyer turns to Grace.

"Well, you can head home if you like," he suggests. "I think I can make it to the Les Schwab place in one piece."

"I'll pray for your safety tonight," she replies seriously.

"Thanks," he says after a moment, and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Do you want to get coffee, after this is all over?" He lets out a breathless laugh. "Off the record, of course."

A corner of Grace's mouth turns up.

"I know just the place."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Love is patient… It keeps no record of wrongs" is from 1 Corinthians 13:4-6.**

 **"You have heard it was said… pray for those who persecute you" is from Matthew 5:43-44.**

 **"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations… And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age" is from Matthew 28:16-20.**

 **All Scriptures mentioned in this fic are from the New International Version translation.**


End file.
